


Mephistopheles

by spirogyra



Series: Humanitas, Caritas, and Temperantia Will Save Him [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Fallen Angels, Hell, M/M, Pre-Slash, actual slash too, non-specific religion, possibly vague mind control, sin and virtue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-28 00:59:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirogyra/pseuds/spirogyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt's soul is conflicted, his feelings not, and that makes him a prize. Hermann's finally willing to indulge, even against what he knows is right, but then that's part of the job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Temptation

**Author's Note:**

> Non-specific religion talk in this again.
> 
> I suggest looking up Mephistopheles in regard to Faust.

"Hey, Hermann?" Newt whispered.

"Yes, Newt."

"Do you think you could put those things away? My teeth are starting to hurt."

"Of course." At some point during the embrace, his hand had come to rest on the back of Newt's head. A deep inhale, just to take in the sweet scent of Newt's desire and lingering fear and love even, the drift still showing him things from Newt's deepest, most fervent imaginings… "I want to do all those things for you," Hermann whispered as he returned to his mortal disguise.

He almost had to catch Newt as the man sagged against him. "No, not here. Back to your room; you need to rest."

Slurred nonsense came out of Newt's mouth before he fell quiet and remained that way all the way back to his room. Even when he was deposited somewhat roughly on his bunk, he hardly made a sound, with his eyes closed and limbs boneless.

With a heavy sigh, Hermann started to undress him. It's when the shirt is unbuttoned and Newt's chest is laid bare, the beginnings of kaiju starting to creep down from his shoulders, that Hermann paused. "My dear, sweet man." Placing his hands flat against Newt's chest, he slid them down slowly to the waistband of his pants. If only flesh were as easily memorized as thoughts, Hermann would never have physical desires again. "You have no idea what you're asking of me, and I don't know if I'll be strong enough not to give it to you."

***

Newt wandered into the lab the next morning, not sure of what he'd find. Not sure of what he'd do either. But what he certainly didn't expect was to see Hermann talking with a tall, stately gentleman that looked…

_Lars Gottlieb._

Gasping involuntarily, then slapping his hands over his mouth, Newt tried to back out of the room as quickly and quietly as possible. But before he managed two steps, they both turned to look at him, and they were both glaring. Twin glares of such a magnitude were absolutely paralyzing.

Hermann's glare was something he was used to, but Lars Gottlieb's glare was _withering_ and furious, and it made Newt believe everything he'd ever heard about him, including that he was a fallen angel and took delight in his duties.

"You and this worm," Lars hissed, sounding barely human, "and you let him see-"

"I didn't let him see anything. It's what happens when-"

"Shut up! I don't care if you showed him all the secrets of the universe! But you did it to save them! Have you forgotten your purpose?"

"I wish that I could."

Lars lashed out, his hand striking Hermann's cheek with a crack that echoed in the large room and made Newt jump. "You may wish to remain stranded on this limited pile of mud and filth, but there is power waiting for us when we win this war. We will stand next to the throne and show _Father_ the error of his decisions."

To Newt's eyes, Hermann looked tired. Not just physically tired, but emotionally and mentally tired. Everything about him, every movement, tilt of the head, clench of the jaw, shift of his weight, it said how much he didn't care about what Lars was saying.

"And this, you revealed yourself to a pure soul. I don't know what to think of you; you've lost sight-"

"My sight is fine. You know perfectly well this didn't suit me from the very start. I didn't take a casual stroll on Earth one day and decide to rape the first beautiful girl I saw. I-"

"Yes, yes, you're so noble with your love," Lars snapped, sneering, "and your child of love, and your eternal love…" Every utterance of love made the word sound like something filthy, something to be despised. "Your love, it doesn't save anyone. It damns them. Stop pretending and do what needs to be done! If you don't, I'll see your little bit of trash buried under a mountain of corpses when I drag him into the Pit myself."

Newt gulped. "Me?" he asked, and his voice came out as a broken squeak, but he didn't even really hear it. The only thing on his mind was the look Lars gave him, the one that said very clearly who should not be speaking at the moment. Again, that strange _blink_ of reality, and Lars was moving very fast toward him. Just the noise, a _whoosh_ , where Newt shut his eyes, and the solid thud of what should have been something coming down hard on his head.

But there was no pain, no sensation of anything, just that itching in his bones again, and when Newt opened his eyes it was too terrifyingly clear.

Lars had swung at him with a sword the size of Newt himself, abandoning all pretense of being mortal with the wings and sword (but surprisingly no halo), and Hermann, just regular human Hermann, the one Newt knew and liked a lot, had blocked it easily with his cane.

Just his cane. Newt felt himself get a little starry-eyed.

"He's not yours." Hermann glanced at Newt and his brow furrowed. "He's not your responsibility."

Lars gave in surprisingly easily, stepping back and glowering. "Don't forget your place."

"I've never forgotten it. You are the one overstepping your bounds here." Hermann snorted, both derisive and dismissive. "You wouldn't know what to do with him if you ever put your hands on him. Your vision is limited, and your thoughts shackled by the-"

Lars--Newt couldn't really think of him as Gottlieb--winked out of existence.

"Just as I was saying," Hermann commented. "I'm sorry you had to deal with him, Newt. He's a cranky sort even on the best of days. And I don't think he quite realizes what the destruction of Earth truly means."

Newt took a deep breath, felt his muscles relax, and he could move normally again. "Could you do that disappearing thing the whole time?" Of course that would be his concern. "I mean, thanks for not letting him hit me. Though…" His emotions were coming in a jumble all at once making it hard to ask anything clearly. "What did you mean that I'm your responsibility?"

"Just that whatever happens to you, it'll be because of what I choose to or not to do." Hermann held up his hand as soon as Newt opened his mouth. "I am not your protector. Guardian angels don't exist, and certainly not guardian fallen angels."

"Aww. Hey, can I ask you something else?"

"I honestly don't know why care about verbal annoyances now; you never did before."

"Because I told you I liked you."

"You are like a child sometimes."

"Only sometimes? I'm getting better!" He gave a little fistpump, ignoring the roll of the eyes he received from Hermann. "But seriously, I mean, I hear you two talking, and half of it is a foreign language to me, so I'm just trying to figure shit out. So when you said he wouldn't know what to do if he put his hands on me...?"

With a heavy sigh, Hermann started for the door. "If you're going to ask me a million questions, I'd prefer to do it somewhere less prone to random people walking in."

"Right! Sure. Your room? My room? Whichever makes you more comfortable; I'm easy." Newt slapped himself on the forehead. "That was just a whole bad combination of words."

"And yet, it's not the worst I've heard from you. My room."

The walk was silent, with Newt just giving casual half-waves to anyone they passed. Honestly, he wouldn't know where to start, even for smalltalk, like he usually did as he walked down the halls.

When they got to Hermann's door, there was no one around to delay them from going in.

"I've never been-"

"You silly fool," Hermann snapped, grabbing him by the arm. "You would be a prize to him."

"What does touching me have to do with it? You never…"

"Oh yes, you remember. I have manners after all, and you did as well at the beginning."

They'd shaken hands, and Newt had been completely ignorant, unable to interpret the odd look Hermann had given him back then.

"He would pursue you relentlessly even though you'd be well aware of what he was trying to do. And most of it would be to provoke me, I think."

Newt hunched his shoulder, trying to pull away from Hermann's grip. "That's hurting, dude."

Hermann released his arm and stepped away. "I'm sorry. But I think you should be fine. No doubt Lars will complain to any who fall within earshot, and it'll be obvious there's nothing here for them. I know, it doesn't make any sense to you, but I'm actually somehow relieved." Turning his back on Newt, Hermann sat in the chair at the tiny desk in the corner of the room. He left his cane leaning against the wall.

It was naturally Newt's first instinct to touch it. To his surprise, it felt like wood with a warm brass handle. It felt utterly normal. "How do you do that?" he asked, holding the cane in both hands now, feeling the weight of it and inspecting it closely from one end to the other. "Wait, your leg actually bothers you? How did that happen?"

"It's a much further fall than anyone understands. Some escaped unharmed, others were not so fortunate, and can scarcely be considered alive. Mercy is a forgotten art."

"Oh."

"It's more an inconvenience than anything now." Moments where it's just the sound of the two of them breathing. "Newt."

But he's fascinated by the cane, that it seems so average, normal. It didn't look like anything special even by human standards. "How do you do that?" he asked again. "Why did you have a halo and Lars didn't? Why-"

"Magic."

"You must be tired. No way would you ever answer any question that way." Newt looked up, grinning, and immediately felt a little bad because Hermann really did look tired. "Oh, did you want to rest or something? It's fine if the only answer you're going to give is magic."

That managed to drag a small smile out from his lab partner. "Very astute. And yes, I think I would like some rest. Dealing with Lars is always a chore, like trying to watch a small child who doesn't understand boundaries."

"Sure, I get it. Do you want some breakfast or coffee or tea or something? I actually haven't been down yet."

"No, I'm fine. Thank you for offering, Newt."

Setting the cane down from the same spot he'd picked it up, Newt started to leave.

"Newt!"

Hermann's voice was like some weird kind of shot right to his back that struck Newt motionless.

"If you see Lars, avoid him. If you can't avoid him, stay near other people. This goes for anyone you don't recognize or looks like they don't belong here."

Again he was teetering on the edge of hysteria at that, and Newt giggled in a pitch too high and too loud. "Sure, Herms. Stranger danger. Got it."

"Go on to breakfast now."

"Right. Right." He was halfway to the mess before Newt even realized it.

***

"I can feel you, man. Don't just tell me it's magic." Newt rubbed the back of his neck where sweat was beginning to gather. "Just like a really intense feeling of someone standing behind me, except you're on the other side of the room."

"It could be the drift."

"Hm. Maybe, but I don't think so." Looking over at Hermann, very firmly on his side of the lab, staring at the computer, eased the sensation, and Newt went back to his own reports. He'd severely neglected them over the past couple days, which was an especially bad move.

Now was the most important time to show and prove his work, when most people wanted to believe the breach was closed for good, and alien monsters would never step foot on Earth again. Newt had a level of trust in Hermann that he had in very few other people, especially in regard to his predictive model. It had never been spelled out to him, but if that big board of gibberish didn't say "Kaiju coming back to eat your babies, bitch," Newt would instead eat his own shoe. "They'll be back, won't they?" he asked anyway.

"There is a high probability. From what we saw, that was merely a factory and staging area. The idea that the explosion involving the double core would destroy an entire planet is ludicrous. We've stopped _one_ point of entry into our dimension. And it was created, not formed, so it stands that it can be re-created. So we should-"

"A simple yes was enough. Much more and you'll just get me depressed."

"I would rather be realistic about these things. I very much prefer the Earth as it is."

"Me too." Newt, with his head in his hand, watched Hermann, and drummed his fingers on his desk. "Am I not good looking enough?"

"Your ego, Newton, is one of the things that will send you to Hell, whether I get into your pants or not!" Hermann yelled, throwing his hands in the air. "Honestly! Try a little humility, because even if you were less pleasant to look at than Beleth's left testicle, I would find you something very appealing."

"Something. I'm _something_. Wow, you know how to woo a guy."

"I'm not trying to woo you! Newton..." Hermann blew out a breath, then sank down in his chair until he was slouched so far into it he was almost spilling out.

Newt was behind him in an instant, hands on his shoulders, massaging them. "If you really meant it, if you really didn't want me, I would walk right out that door in an instant. But." Leaning in closer, his lips almost touched the rim of Hermann's ear. "We both know you do."

"How are you the one tempting me?"

"Because I'm irresistible."

"Do you understand why I'm so protective of you now? You would be a plaything for Lars and Bastien. It's why I should have never..."

"But you had to, to protect the Earth. Look, even if something happens to me, it was worth it to save everyone else. That's like what Spock said, right? One life for billions. Being a selfish coward, that's just not right. I wouldn't have joined the PPDC if that's how I wanted to live."

"No, of course not," Hermann replied in a low, even tone. "To live like a rock star, throw yourself into danger at every turn for the next kernel of knowledge. You are a dangerous man."

"Big difference between being dangerous and living dangerously. I'm just living up to my potential here." He leaned down further, his mouth at the corner of Hermann's before a strong hand gripped the back of his neck.

"If this is what you're going to subject me to until I relent, then, forgive me, tonight. In your room." Hermann's hand dropped away from Newt's neck.

"Yeah, tonight."

 

Newt went straight back to his room after dinner to clean up. It wasn't messy, just a bit cluttered. He straightened up the books on his desk, cleared the stack of various reference books, comics, and manga from next to the bed, and straightened his covers. He hung up his jacket, and threw away the empty food and drink containers he'd left sitting around.

There wasn't much he could do about the smell; the air circulation system that ran throughout the shatterdome helped somewhat, but without windows and unable to leave his door open, the place just kind of smelled like… him. Hopefully Hermann didn't find him too smelly, or that he brought too much stink of kaiju with him.

A knock on his door made him jump, and he tossed a dirty shirt draped over his chair in the hamper before hurrying to the door. "Hey, Hermann. Come in." Yeah, sure, play it cool while he was already half-hard in his pants from just being near Hermann now. The tingling at the back of his neck as the other man stepped behind him grew to be a burning sensation as Newt shut and locked his door.

Now Hermann would grab his arm and spin him around, press him back against the door, and…

There was no grabbing of his arm, just the feeling of being watched. When newt turned, Hermann was just standing in the middle of the room, and indeed watching him closely. "So…" Full mast under that critical eye, because Hermann's eye was _always_ critical. Newt looked down at himself, only now conscious of how he looked in his rumpled shirt and sloppy tie, then guiltily back to Hermann. A thin, wavering smile stretched Newt's lips as he started to loosen the tie.

"Here, Newt.  To me."

He obeyed, automatically, like a dog, his hands falling to his sides, and his eyes locked firmly with Hermann's.

"Allow me." His touch was sure, but movements slow as Hermann finished loosening Newt's tie and slipped it off.

Spellbound, transfixed, Newt stood still and silent as Hermann unbuttoned his shirt, running his fingers down the exposed flesh down to the waistband of Newt's pants. His mouth opened, jaw going slack and breath coming more quickly as the material was pushed from his shoulders. "Please, Hermann."

Silent, Hermann's long fingers unbuttoned and then unzipped the tight pants. That hand settled on Newt's hip. "Sit down and remove your shoes, please."

The odd calmness lifted, and Newt was as eager and vibrant as ever as he sat on his bed and started to yank his shoes off. "Socks?"

"If you would."

The floor was cold under his feet once they were bare, and he looked both expectantly and questioningly at Hermann. It wasn't with the removal of his clothing, with each individual piece, simply that Newt's desperation was growing with every single moment he spent in the room with Hermann Gottlieb. Thin, cool fingers across soft warm flesh, gooseflesh raised in their wake as pants gently rasped down his legs.

Cold air washed over Newt's groin as his boxer-briefs made their way down and to the floor. His eyes were wide, pupils huge even in the bright overhead light as Hermann stood over him. The smallest gesture and Newt was situating himself in the center of his bed, clutching the edges of his pillow under his head.

Newt was panting hard, like he'd just run a race though the only thing that had happened was that he'd been undressed. "Hermann, please. Please, with the wings, I want you." He squirmed with anticipation as Hermann started to slowly undress at the end of the bed. "Hurry!"

Yes, that was a vague smile on Hermann's face. He was completely aware of just how much Newt wanted him, how desperate he was. "Yes, Newt, I'll take you just how you like." The jacket. "Slow." The sweater. "Fast." The buttons of his shirt and then the cuffs so he could slip it off. "Soft." His belt and then clasp and zip of his trousers. "Or hard if you prefer. Is that what you want?"

"Do I get just the once?" Newt asked, breathless and looking slightly frightened.

"Once what?"

"Do I only get you once, and then woosh I'm off to Hell?"

"No, Newt. You get to live out your life, however long it may be. However many times we're together."

Something unsaid tickled the back of Newt's mind, something from the drift? _No matter how often you submit. Now matter how often I take you._

"Dude, all you have to do is ask. You should know I'll say yes." He'd submit because he was submissive, not because Hermann was his master. He'd let Hermann take him because he wanted to be taken, not because he was forced.

"Would you get on your knees and worship me?"

Newt's face scrunched up, his lip curling in distaste. "No. I mean, you're hot, but I'm not worshipping anything."

"Would you kill for me?"

"No! What the hell, man? Is this some kind of test? Because it is seriously killing my boner."

"Others have bowed at my feet, pledged their lives to me, said they would do anything for me. Is that you? Are you one of them?"

Newt was completely soft and frowning. "No way! I'm sorry, but I guess I'm not… actually into this like I thought I was." It wasn't Hermann. It wasn't him at all. The person he'd fallen for wasn't real, just a fake personality to fool the stupid humans.

Fallen for. It might be funny if Newt wasn't feeling low and a little dirty at the moment. "This won't change anything, will it? Like with my soul."

"No, Newt. Nothing will change," Hermann answered softly, directing his gaze to his pile of clothes. "Just please don't tell anyone about me. I can flee, disappear from here and never be found, but there's a very real possibility a new breach will open in the future. If it does, I'll do whatever I can to close it once again."

"You are totally running hot and cold. I can't handle that kind of whiplash, man." Newt sat up, his back against the cold concrete wall, completely unconcerned with his state of undress. "Do you or do you not want to do this? Because if you do, just tell me what was with the questions, because they were really damned weird."

Hermann had his pants back on, and was holding his shirt and sweater to his chest. His shoulders were slumped, and even without the rest of the clothing, "usual" Hermann was visible in that posture. "I wanted you to say no. I don't want you to be like the others. And I don't want to hurt you, but you seem determined to do the single most idiotic thing I can imagine, and…" His hands were clutched tightly across the bundle of clothes he was holding. "I don't want to tempt you. Maybe that way you won't… You don't deserve that, Newt."

When he turned his back, Newt could see the strange marks there, scar-like across his shoulder blades. "Are those where your wings…?"

"Yes." Two long, pink scars against pale and smooth skin, surgical in their precision and neatness. "I've never really seen them though, the marks."

"They look badass," Newt said, forgetting how confused and distressed he'd just been. "Like ritual scarification."

"Hmph. No kind of ritual you'd ever want to be part of." He looked back. "I take no pride in them."

"I didn't say you did, or you should. You're the one that got all weird on me; don't act like this is my fault, man."

Just a sigh, almost silent, and Hermann left without even putting his shirt back on.

"Well I guess I fucked that up."


	2. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt gets exactly what he wanted, finally, and so much more that's less appealing.

"Hey, man."

"What's up, Newt?"

Newt sat on the bench next to Tendo Choi, his meal tray piled haphazardly with food. "Can I ask you something?"

Tendo laughed and shook his head. "I didn't touch her! I swear!"

That got Newt smiling at least. "Nah, nothing like that. No, it's… not quite personal, but I was wondering if I could ask you about religion."

"Sure. End of the world made you wanna convert?"

Newt poked at his food with his fork, but couldn't bring himself to eat anything. "Don't think so, but I guess it made me think. Do you believe in angels?"

"Well sure, to an extent."

"You think they, like, come to Earth and junk?"

Tendo shrugged and took a long drink of his coffee. "Do I believe someone walking down the street is an angel, or if they will pop in and help you if you pray hard enough?"

"Either or."

"No, I don't believe either of those things. The divine has no reason to care about our petty mortal bullshit, right? Bunch of self-centered idiocy if you ask me. If you can't be bothered to wake up on time or study enough, why would an angel, right?"

"Yeah." And it made sense, sure. "What's your take on fallen angels? I mean, you think they're floating around, watching people, and leading them to temptation and stuff?"

"I'm no literalist. To me, it's more about personal responsibility, and all that stuff people are afraid to face in themselves, they can just blame on demons or fallen angels or ghosts. What's with the interest in angels?"

"I'm not sure. Just something I heard got me thinking. Always learning, and since I'm not religious, hearing the opinion of someone who is puts it all into perspective."

Tendo delivered a friendly elbow into Newt's ribs. "Fucking scientists. Digging into the kaiju cults? Trying to figure out how all this crap is related to God?"

"No, not at all." But it wasn't a half-bad idea. "Seriously, I'm just curious. If I'm just asking a bunch of dumb questions, it's fine. Just tell me to stop and I will."

"It's cool. I think it's all personal. And it should be. Every person has to have their own beliefs, their own faith. Not my place to judge anyone on what gets them through the day, so if someone avoids stealing or stays sober one more day by telling themself they've got an angel or Jesus at their shoulder, fine by me. I just think it's bullshit. Strength of the human heart, man."

"Huh."

 

"Tendo says you're just an excuse for people to do bad shit."

Hermann looked up at Newt in the doorway over the rim of his glasses. "Excuse me?"

"He doesn't believe angels exist on Earth. Or from what he said, I would guess he doesn't really believe that Jesus takes a quick peek at us on a daily basis either."

"Now you're just being silly. And I really need to work on this, so if you wouldn't mind...?"

"Sorry." Newt pulled the little packet from his shirt pocket and opened it. He strolled the perimeter of the lab, looking at each of his specimens, then over to the blackboards. As he walked, he popped peanuts from the packet into his mouth.

Hermann could feel his presence behind him, feel him move as he scanned each board. Was there any point in fighting it? If Newt wanted it, it was freely given. That couldn't be on his conscience if Newt was too blind to realize what awaited him. But it was. It was the only thing he thought of when he wasn't engaged with his work.

His nature contrary to his existence. It was a faint mirror, a hollow echo of Newt himself. A far older problem that he'd not had to struggle with so much since he'd witnessed the emergence of the modern age. Where things and people were so much more complicated, where there was no black and white, where simplicity had lost its luster.

Knowledge and learning were more intriguing and beauteous to him than pointless sin and corruption. He wasn't supposed to seek out something higher than the purpose he was given, but it felt like there was little left to lose. She was so far away, figuratively if not literally, out of his reach, forcibly out of his mind, but then he'd let Newt in, like an utter fool.

"You there, dude?" Newt was waving his hand in Hermann's face. "You been staring off at the wall for like five minutes."

"I wish life could be as simple as you see it."

"But it is. Everything is just right there, and you roll with it. I see giant monsters stomping all over, killing people, I make my move to help. How is that complicated?" Newt sat on the edge of the desk, his feet swinging lazily.

"It's the smallest things that are the most difficult to deal with. People, Newt. People are complicated and make things complicated and like to be complicated. Everyone says they want things simple, but when things are simple, nobody's satisfied."

Newt opened another packet of nuts. "I like simple. Simple things satisfy me. A fresh kaiju spleen and digging my hands into it. Fresh waffles. Loud music. A pretty face, a nice body, an overflowing brain. Simple." He smiled. "Oh, a banana split! Shit, I love bananas."

"I'm attempting to be serious, Newt."

"And so am I. I thought you knew me better than that."

Smart and simple. That was something Hermann didn't want to believe of Newt. There was nothing about Newt he saw that was simple. That little list was not what defined Newt, but the man refused to see anything deeper than the moment. With a heaving sigh, Hermann took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "You are more than that. I wish I could show you what I see in you." He stood, without sparing even a glance for Newt, and walked out of the lab.

***

No way was Newt just going to let that shit go.

***

Newt stood in his doorway. "Hey."

"What do you want?"

"To come in." He smiled nervously. "I think we kind of left things undone, you know?"

"Newt, is there any way I can convince you not to do this? Aside from locking you in your room for the next twenty years."

And to that, a grin. "Nope. Just, uh…" Newt glanced either way down the hall. "Just promise me you'll visit when I'm in Hell."

"That doesn't help! I don't want to see you there at all." But Hermann didn't do anything when Newt pushed past him to get in his room. He didn't tell the man to leave, didn't stand there with the door open as an unspoken command. No, Hermann shut and locked his door because he was weak, just like he'd always known.

"You know, from an outside perspective, you are a _terrible_ fallen angel."

It was true to some extent, but he'd done just as much as the others. It was only here that he faltered. "It's you. You make me a terrible fallen angel."

"Great! Maybe I can make you be a not fallen angel then somehow."

"Newt-"

"Please stop. I want to do this with you because, to no one's surprise, I'm not asexual. I appreciate a good lay, and if there's feelings involved, it's icing. Don't tell me you're not a good lay because I won't believe it. You've got to have god-like powers in the sack, right?"

Hermann scowled. "You make it all sound so undignified."

"Come on, dude, there is not a single thing dignified about sex. In any form. So why are we doing this dance when we already had the conversation? Everything's out on the table; I know the consequences, and you're just being a big stick in the mud. I'll make it easy this time. I'll just undress myself."

It was quite possibly the only way it would happen, to just let Newt run away with the whole thing. All of Hermann's doubts and hesitations and guilt were crushed under Newt's impossible tidal wave of positivity. Positivity even in the face of the worst thing known to man.

 _Clear knowledge_. Looking at the man, it was easy to forget that he thrived on knowledge and the pursuit of it. "Why do wear that tie? It's ridiculous," Hermann said, turning his thoughts away from what he couldn't change, as much as he tried,

_not enough, not nearly hard enough_

to what was going to happen.

"They told me at MIT to wear a tie to look respectable." The tie was dropped on the floor, on top of Newt's shoes. "So I started wearing this. They stopped trying to tell me how to dress. Also, that's against union policy, but I was saving throwing that in their faces for something really important." He unbuttoned three of the top buttons of his shirt before he pulled the whole thing over his head.

Hermann watched it fall to the floor with a frown. Newt's clutter in his room. Newt's endless chatter in his ear.

"How do you want it? Top, bottom, bed, wall, desk?"

It was pointless in engaging him while he was in this state. Hermann turned out the light, putting the room into almost complete darkness. "On the bed, Newt."

"Hold on. Let me get out of my pants. They're not good for getting off in a hurry." Newt chuckled to himself in the dark. "I'm really good for getting off in a hurry though."

"Hm. We'll see."

Rustling, fumbling, Newt swearing, before the quiet thud of clothing dropped on the floor in a heap. "How do you see anything in here without even a nightlight?" Newt asked, partially out of breath from his struggle. But he didn't wait for an answer before he then asked, "Shorts or none?"

"Remove them, please. Then on the bed, on your back. I want to be able to see you, see your face when I debauch you."

"Debauch, eh? That's so... angel-y."

"Fine. You prefer language a little coarser, something rougher to get you hard?"

"I'm already hard, dude. But yeah, I like some dirty talk. I've been imagining it with your voice, your accent for like six months."

Of course he had, the virtuous little tart. "I hope you're prepared, because I want to see the way your mouth falls open and you gasp for breath, and then start to beg when I fuck you properly, as no one's ever done you before I'm sure. Because I'm going to tease you for hours, until you beg me, then I'm going to wring every ounce of pleasure from your nerves until you can't breathe. And in the morning, I'll have made you come so hard, your body will be sore."

"Fuck," Newt said quietly.

"I plan on it, and very thoroughly." Hermann started to shed his clothing. "I hope you're ready."

"Oh yes."

 

It felt like hours of teasing, bringing him to the brink only to let him fall back, and then repeat. How many times he'd been ready to come and been denied escaped Newt's count, mostly because he was hardly aware of notions like 'counting' as the time ticked away. After the third time, he'd focussed entirely on chasing the feeling, determined to hurl himself over the edge and catch Hermann by surprise.

But Hermann seemed to know him better than Newt knew himself, and was able to stop him every time. Every. Time. It was enough to drive a man to insanity.

Especially in the dark, which Newt's eyes couldn't fully adjust to (and without his glasses); touch came as a surprise, drawing gasps from his mouth and making his body arch up off the bed. His cock was leaking a steady supply of pre-come, and at one point Hermann touched it with every single part of his body at once it felt like. The moan ripped from his throat must be audible out in the hall, and under normal circumstances, they both would be concerned they'd been heard.

Here, in the moment, neither gave a damn.

"Hermann, let me…" Newt licked his lips, a wet, smacking sound in the darkened room. "Up here."

Straddling Newt's body on his knees, Hermann got in position to allow Newt to easily suck his cock. "Nice and wet now," he instructed, running his fingers through Newt's hair. "Wet because I'm not going to use my fingers to ready your greedy little hole."

Newt took him in, almost to the root, groaning the entire time.

"That's quite enough. I don't want you spoiled." As Hermann withdrew, Net began whining and squirming. "And the more you squirm, the longer it takes me, and the more dry I'll be. Is that what you want? Me to be completely dry as I split you open?"

Newt's entire body stilled, for the most part, as Hermann backed down and settled between his legs.

At some point in the very near future, Hermann would go over every single line of Newt's tattoos, revel in seeing the man reduced to a quivering mass of need, pushing him so far past want the idea of simply _wanting_ something would be impossible to understand. His voice came out closer to a growl than anything truly human: "This is what you need, isn't it?"

Newt whimpered. "Yes, I need it. I need you, Hermann."

He wanted to stop, because nobody had ever needed _him_ before. They'd always wanted him to take them to the impossible heights and depths of their chosen sins, wanted and needed his power. Never him. But there was no stopping.

Because Hermann was fallen, and these were the things he did, no matter how much it crushed that little bit of light that refused to dim inside him.

 

"Show me," Newt whispered, floating on more than simple physical euphoria. No, with Hermann's ear pressed against his chest and arms around him, his ass full of the come of a fallen angel, it was love. Not like that first lay love, not because he felt physically good, but because he felt perfect being with Hermann. It was what love was supposed to be, the feeling of safety and comfort, and happiness, to be with a person he cared for and liked. "Show me what it looks like."

"What?"

"Hell. If I'm going there, show me."

"Newt, I'm s-"

"No. I forgive you. My choice. Free will. Now show me."

Hermann's voice was quiet, small, when he finally replied. "I don't want to. I want to stay here. I don't want there to be a Hell where I send good people for making dumb mistakes."

There was an itching sensation on Newt's skin, where Hermann was resting his head, and moistness. "Are you crying?" It came out harsher than intended; he was more surprised than anything, but Hermann took it the wrong way.

"Fine," the fallen angel said, no longer quiet or timid. He was angry once more, which was always a frightening sight. "You want Hell? I'll give it to you." Hermann's arms locked tightly around Newt's midsection.

That low itching in his bones, and then the room pulled away from him, like skin stretching away from a skeleton. When it tore free, he almost screamed.

"Don't escape into insanity," Hermann warned, voice low in his ear. "It's too late for that. Look and despair, Newt, at what you asked for."

Black rivers banked by gray writhing bodies; mounds of bones between spouts of fire that turned everything around them to glass; the neverending sound of screaming and wailing; the great plain of filth where demons walked across the backs of people half-buried in the muck.

There's nothing so obvious as flayings and beatings, no. That would make it easier somehow to understand. No, the horrible landscape changes, but the noises don't, and heavy, crushing weight of complete misery doesn't either. And the stench-

Newt choked and coughed, and when he opened his eyes, he was back in bed. "That sucked," he said weakly, taking a deep breath of clean air. "No wonder you don't want to go there."

The grip Hermann had on him grew painfully tight for a moment. "And why I didn't want you to go there, but it's too late now."

Staring blankly up at the dark ceiling of Hermann's room, Newt thought, _Oh shit_.

 

The way to cope was to simply put it out of his mind, live life like it was meant to be lived, and move on. Newt stopped asking questions, because those only brought to mind the apparent fact that he was going to a place that he didn't very much care for when he died.

Not until one night, that even though he was spent, there was still a coil of desire gradually unfurling in his gut, Newt asked, "What happens to my memories?"

"Hm?" Hermann sounded very near sleep.

"When I'm there, what about my memories? Can I just think of tonight to distract myself from being face down in a pile of shit and being walked on?" Crying and begging and wailing and pleading while hunger and pain gnawed at him endlessly, and-

Hermann's fingers brushed his cheeks, just under his eyes. "Don't cry. I'll-I'll find you there, somehow, and stay with you. I won't be able to help, but I can share your misery."

But the thought was there now, and it haunted Newt.

_I don't want to go to Hell._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love attention! Kudos or comments here, or questions and comments on tumblr. <3 every who reads this far.
> 
> [Screen capping and the like](http://echoisles.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Fandom/fanworks blathering and updates](http://echoislesfandom.tumblr.com/)


	3. Thy Damnation Comes From Thee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt considers all things spiritual, including the way Hermann makes him feel in bed.

Tendo was his only relatable religious resource. Newt did a ton of research online, but with the Kaidonovskis gone (and their no-doubt unique take on Russian Orthodoxy), Tendo was the only man that wore his religion in the open. He was also the only one that Newt felt comfortable talking to about these things.

The man knew how eccentric Newt could be at times, and never failed to try to roll with whatever crazy idea was bouncing around in Newt's head.

"How do you save your soul?"

With his fork halfway to his mouth, Tendo looked at him. "Excuse me?" And then the fork continued its journey.

"What if you're damned, your soul is going to Hell, what do you do to change that?"

After a very thoroughly chewing his breakfast, Tendo swallowed, and said, "Repent. Confess and repent."

"Repent? That's it? There's gotta be more to it or there'd be a lot less people in Hell."

With an amused grin that spoke of tolerance more than humor, Tendo shook his head at Newt. "Dude, you have watched way too many movies and shit. You don't just lie there and with your last breath go, 'I repent!' and poof you get wings. It's harder than that, way harder."

"So how?" Newt had almost said, _I'm not afraid of working hard._

But Tendo shrugged at that question. "You just have to stop doing what put you on that road. Stop doing all that business, and get yourself right. You don't say that you repent. You do it."

"Do you think you're going to Hell?"

"Wow, don't pull any punches there, do you? But I don't know. I'd like to think not, but who fucking knows anymore? No church has ever told me anything to make me believe they have the answers. I've heard lots of stories, lots of good life advice, lots of bible verses, but nothing that's ever been labeled as the answer for me." Another bite of food. "So I just keep on keeping on, doing my best to not be a shithead."

Newt glanced at the rosary the man had with him at all times.

"My mom's. She was pretty crazy hardcore. I like the idea, but not the practice. So many rules to follow that feel like they get in the way of what's important. Hey, if you're really curious, you should talk to the resident token religious representative. I don't think they've phased him out just yet; still got people here with issues they prefer to speak to him about."

"Yeah, maybe I'll do that. Thanks, man."

"No problem."

Quit being with Hermann, when it was one of the only things he'd really wanted for the last eight months. That he just couldn't do. If anyone else had seen Hermann like he had, that vulnerability and doubt in his eyes, they wouldn't abandon him either.

"You OK?"

Newt glanced at Tendo, only just realizing he'd been staring off into the distance and ignoring his tray. "Yeah, fine."

_Keep on keeping on._

***

"Can I touch them?"

Hermann sighed.

"Please?"

When Hermann turned to switch off the light, Newt wiggled back to prop himself up in bed. "I don't understand your fascination, Newt. They're just… _things_."

"Awesome things. Come on, you may be used to seeing people just strolling around with wings, but I'm not. And you… Wait! Do you have some kind of, like, angel dick when you're like that?"

"Is there something wrong with it as is? Nobody's ever complained before."

"No, no! It's just really cool. And you turn out the lights and I can't see shit. I can't see what you look like other than a white blob. I just want to see so I can…" The word worship died on Newt's lips. "I want to see what I'm putting my mouth on."

"You are ridiculous."

Newt grinned. "Please?"

A long-suffering sigh. "Fine, but I don't understand the fascination."

Almost immediately, the bed was bathed in soft light.

"They're not as bright as I thought they'd be," Newt commented, and reached out slowly. He didn't touch the tip of the wing so much as it flowed over his hand, both solid and incorporeal at the same time. "That is so cool." Then his eyes moved up, along with his hand to the halo.

Hermann ducked slightly, putting it within Newt's reach.

It was cold, like a metal thermos that had been in a refrigerator all night, and felt exactly like a piece of metal he'd find in a scrapyard. He gave it a small, experimental tug. It didn't budge, but didn't seem to pull at Hermann either. "Is there such a thing as physics in play here?"

"No."

Newt turned his attention to Hermann's bare chest, pale and smooth, almost completely hairless, and ran his hand down it. "You're cold. Do you feel cold?"

Sitting there patiently, Hermann shook his head. "I feel… normal."

"Well you look perfect. Like weirdly perfect. Not that I mind." Newt eased himself up with one arm, his grin still in place, to kiss along Hermann's jawline. "Come on," he said quietly with their mouths almost pressed together. "Tendo said I have to repent to save myself, but I just don't even care." His hand was combing through the short hair on the side of Hermann's head. "I'm not giving you up when I just got you."

But Hermann pulled away, looking vaguely disgusted. "You spoke to Tendo about this?"

"No, dude. I just asked vague questions. I didn't say anything about you or us. Tendo wouldn't believe me anyway. He said he doesn't believe there are angels on Earth."

"I wish you wouldn't breach such subjects with others. It makes me uncomfortable."

"Why?" And not uncomfortable enough to withdraw those wings and the halo.

"I admit, there is a terror in the back of my mind that someone will find out and believe it. And then… Nothing good can come of that." His thin and elegant hand covered Newt's smaller and dirty one still on his chest. "I'll say it every day, I don't want to leave. I want to stay with you."

_Why? Why me? Why now?_

"Your curiosity is so loud."

"What about your answer? Because it is kind of an odd situation, right?" Newt nuzzled the underside of Hermann's jaw. "You act like I'm the first."

"You are. You're the first innocent to ever discover what I am. What I was."

Newt's grin grew so wide his cheeks hurt. "Innocent." He snickered quietly and kissed Hermann quite thoroughly on the mouth.

"Yes, as hard as it is to believe, you are, or were, innocent. I suppose you're not truly the first innocent I've been attracted to, but you are the first I've shown myself to. If not for the drift, I would have simply kept my distance and not allowed things to go anywhere." He gripped Newt's hand and smiled softly. "I see all of you."

"Yeah, I'm naked here." Newt's chest was starting to swell with emotion, and the little bit of humor was the only way he could deal with it in the moment.

"Inside and out. I could feel it the moment I met you. You are beautiful."

Newt stared into Hermann's eyes, shining green and serious brown, and said, "God, Hermann, fuck me through the wall right _now_."

***

Maybe there'd be some point that would change Newt's mind. That was the nature of free will and all. Maybe he'd finally listen to all the advice he'd been given and repent, give up on Hermann, and save himself. But Hermann was his _friend_ , had been long before they'd had sex, before Newt had even known the truth, so how was it fair at all?

"You look like you went ten rounds with a wet dream," Tendo said as he sat down across from Newt.

Newt smiled faintly. "I wish." It had only been twice actually. He could still feel that weird energy in him, that odd vibration that had made him blackout when it had hit his prostate (and there was no way he was an innocent, because he enjoyed the idea that Hermann had just kept fucking him while he was out cold). His cock was hard just thinking about it. "Yeah, sorry, dude, I'm beat. Think I'm gonna go back to bed for a couple hours."

Hopefully his pants were tight enough to keep his massive erection in check.

***

He _did_ care. Newt actually cared a lot because from what little he'd experienced, Hell sucked. He sat in his room, on the edge of his bunk, and tried to make himself believe he could do it. He didn't want to go to Hell, but he'd known Hermann longer than anyone else in his life, and to just walk away…

Wasn't there a special place in Hell for traitors? Because walking away, not looking back, abandoning everything felt like betrayal. It sounded like the rules were pretty hard and fast, that there weren't exceptions for shit that made perfect sense… Oh shit. Double shit. Had Newt walked into an impossible situation?

To save himself, he had to repent, which meant betraying the trust of not just Hermann, but everyone in the PPDC that still expected him to help in the recovery and future research efforts.

"Fuck."

 

"Hey, Tendo."

Tendo never failed to greet him with a smile, though there was a weary quality in his eyes that said he knew Newt had more questions. "Looking a little better than before. Get your beauty sleep?"

With a shrug, Newt slid onto the bench, and stared morosely at his tray of food. He'd piled it on without care for what it was or how it ended up being a giant heap. "I'm… in a quandary."

"A quandary? Well, it _must_ be serious business then. A spiritual quandary?"

Newt nodded. "Proverbial rock and a hard place, dude. I didn't see it before, shit, didn't even know it existed until I talked to you, and now…" He looked at Tendo, whose smile was slowly slipping. "I'm going to Hell."

"You don't even believe in that."

"I do now."

Tendo's smile disappeared completely, and his brows creased as his mouth set in a firm, displeased line. "You're telling me all those questions, angels and shit, those weren't hypothetical? Or curiosity Or whatever? You were serious."

Grimacing at the bite of food he'd just taken, Newt nodded.

"You…" Tendo looked around then leaned across the table to speak in a whisper. "You had contact with an angel?"

"Not exactly."

"And what does that mean? Not exactly."

"A fallen angel."

Tendo rubbed his forehead as he sat back. "I don't know what to tell you, man. Honestly, it's all over my pay grade. I told you I didn't believe that… Oh God, now I have to, don't I?"

With a weak smile, Newt shrugged again. "I feel like I don't know shit any longer. It feels so far beyond kaiju and the breach, like I don't even know. It's nothing I can study or even understand. It's not scientific or…" He looked very seriously, as serious as he'd ever looked in the shatterdome, at Tendo. "I'm in so much trouble."

"Is there something I can do?" Tendo held his hand out.

"I don't think so," Newt said, and put his hand in Tendo's. He laughed a little. "Pray for my stupidity?"

"You got it, brother."

***

"I love you, dude."

Hermann turned at Newt's sudden presence behind him. "Excuse me?"

"I said I love you. And I'm fucking terrified."

It seemed reality had finally set in, and Hermann went to his desk to sit. "What do you want me to say? I warned you, repeatedly, but you refused to-"

"I don't want you to say anything. I just want you to hear what I'm saying, because I've come to a realization that I'm pretty much screwed, and yeah, you're right: it is totally my own fault. So I guess I'm gonna ride this train all the way down."

Hermann watched warily as Newt approached him. Newt had always been something of an open book to him, probably to most people, but in the moment Hermann had no idea what he was doing.

"It doesn't matter to me what you are, an angel, a fallen angel, or just my very grouchy lab partner. I'm going to stand up and pay the price for not walking away." He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand suddenly. "Shit."

"Come here." Hermann opened his arms and held them like that until Newt sat across his healthy leg and leaned into him. "If I had any meaningful reward to bestow upon you, I would." With his arms around Newt now, he could feel the other man shake. Yes, definitely reality tearing him up from the inside-out. "And I love you too."

That was when Newt grabbed on to him and started to cry into his neck and shoulder.

 

Dark and silent other than the distant thrumming of heavy machinery and the quiet sound of Newt's deep breaths as he slept. Hermann was perfectly awake and staring up at the ceiling. The slow movements of Newt's breathing and his warmth along his side kept his own thoughts sluggish and quiet. It was a welcome moment of quiet from how his nights normally went. It might be possible to get more than two hours sleep this way.

Newt shifted, threw his arm across Hermann's stomach, took a great snorting breath, then stilled once again.

Slower, and slower still until Hermann's eyes closed and his thoughts became silent, and he was asleep.

***

Hermann watched Newt from his desk. It looked like he'd recovered from the previous day's break and was back to his usual self. As far as he could tell anyway, with the way Newt was sectioning his limited leftover samples into tiny portions, all the while nodding his head to whatever noise his earbuds were pumping out.

Music was something Hermann had been very slow to acclimate to. His tastes were always years behind, sometimes decades, so he had a difficult time with Newt's music. It wasn't flat-out dislike; he simply didn't understand it.

Under these circumstances, where the music was anonymous and Hermann could just watch Newt enjoy it, it didn't matter. He understood Newt, and that was the important thing to him.

Newt looked up, caught him staring, and gave him a quizzical half-smile.

Hermann returned the smile and shook his head.

For whatever inscrutable reason that wormed its way into Newt's head, that Hermann would never question him on, the man blew a raspberry at him, then returned to his work.

As his smile faltered and he looked back at his computer, Hermann couldn't help but wonder why he'd allowed himself to ruin Newt's life so completely.

 

Newt's daily possessions had slowly migrated to his room. His own clothing was limited because he really didn't care, so Newt's fit snugly in next to them. None of his other things ever moved in, none of his books or music, no posters or knick-knacks. Unless someone looked into the tiny closet or dresser, they wouldn't know how much time Newt spent in his room.

The idea sometimes sent Hermann's thoughts to the future, beyond the PPDC and the shatterdome. At some point the two of them would have freedom, be able to escape this metal tomb, live like normal people. Live together.

Hermann couldn't imagine it any other way at this point, if only because he had to protect Newt (but of course it was so much more). He'd never lived the mortal human life, didn't know how he'd manage, or if Newt could. There was so much more to it all than knowledge and sex and love; those were the easy things that came without effort.

"You look sour. More than normal anyway."

"The future is always on my mind. It never brings pleasant thoughts to mind." Though they'd been less negative than usual, pondering Newt's skill at domestic living.

For the briefest moment, Newt's usual smile slipped, but then he shrugged. "I haven't thought much about the future beyond kaiju since they first showed up."

"Would you…" Hermann coughed and cleared his throat. "Have you considered what you'll do once the PPDC stands down their alert status?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"When we're either released or given a more normal schedule, including off-base housing."

The way Newt stuck out his lower lip was all the answer needed. "No, I guess I didn't." He laughed suddenly, actually appearing happy. "Dude, I just thought I was gonna be doing this forever. I am not good at planning this kind of stuff out."

"Perhaps you would consider rooming with me."

" _Rooming_ with you? If you mean living with you, then yes, I would very seriously consider it. I mean, you live, like, in a house with furniture and a kitchen and stuff, right? You don't live in abandoned churches or in old factories or something, right?"

Hermann sighed. "No, but I must admit I've never lived with anyone before. There may be a period of adjustment."

Once again, Newt smiled like there was nothing wrong in the world. "All I need is a refrigerator and a TV and I can make it work. As long as we're still sleeping together."

So blunt and unassuming. So perfect.

The self-loathing in Hermann was like a knife twisting his guts.

***

"I didn't see you in the lab today."

Newt stripped off his shirt and pants, then changed into his fleece sleep pants. "Was doing some research. I'm going to convert." He slipped under the covers next to Hermann.

"I hope you're not becoming a vegetarian."

"No, converting for real. To Pharisaism."

"Oh _really_?"

"Yeah."

"Let me know when your circumcision is planned."

Newt bit his lower lip. "Well…"

"You would never be considered Jewish by anyone, no matter how forgiving the sect, if you're not circumcised."

"But my all my deeds will be weighed when I die. And I know I've done way more good than bad. I must have!"

Hermann chuckled and patted Newt's cheek. "You need to read things more closely. It's not that simple; religion never is. I don't mean to discourage you, but I want you to be very sure about what you're getting yourself involved in. If it's not for the right reasons, none of it will matter."

"And staying with you isn't the right reason, is it? No, don't answer it. You're such a downer sometimes."

"I'm sorry, love."

Newt got very quiet and very still next to him. "I like that," he finally said, barely above a whisper. "When you call me that."

"I like being able to call you that. Did you want…?"

Newt shook his head then leaned it against Hermann's shoulder. "I just wanna stay like this for a while. Thanks, Herms."

"For what?"

"I don't even know, but thanks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End coming quickly now, including a future appearance by the rest of Hermann's "family".
> 
> [Screen caps of random stuff](http://echoisles.tumblr.com/)   
> [](http://echoislesfandom.tumblr.com/>All%20PR-related%20fan-ish%20things</A>)

**Author's Note:**

> 'eat your babies, bitch' is a Mike Tyson quote (also used in It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia).
> 
>  
> 
> [Random screen caps and such](http://echoisles.tumblr.com/)  
> [Fandom stuff!](http://echoislesfandom.tumblr.com/)


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